


Fall On Your Knees

by Klauscarolove



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, soul marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klauscarolove/pseuds/Klauscarolove
Summary: Twelve dead hybrids. Two broken hearts. Caroline faces something she can't fathom, Klaus faces something he can't have.Hurt and pain, love and lust, truces and triumph. They are marked for each other, and each other alone.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes & Klaus Mikaelson, Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson, Klaroline - Relationship
Comments: 54
Kudos: 143





	1. Heat and Chill

Her and Stefan had betrayed everyone….

Tyler and the unsired hybrids had threatened them in the stairway. She felt stuck between her friends and her boyfriend and _him_. After the hybrids had made it clear that there would be consequences if their plans were thwarted, the two vampires stepped away from the festivities to calm down and regroup inside the grill

“I don’t know about this, Stefan. I keep on having to remind myself of all of the horrible things he’s done. I don’t think I’d feel such a strong need to justify this if it was actually the right thing to do.” 

“I know, I-, I can’t help but feel…guilty, somehow. We’ve all done horrible things with our own agendas. He’s just doing his.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They stood silently in the stockroom of the grill, leaning against the racks and trying to soak in everything going on around them.

“Can I admit something to you, Stefan?”

He nodded silently.

“I-, when I’m-,” she paused, starting over. “I can’t do this to him. He’s not a good guy but he’s not the bad guy to me. He’s lonely, Stefan, _so lonely._ I’ve been that way: some horribly shallow and self serving girl who was _so_ desperate for love.”

She finally got the courage to face Stefan properly as he remained silent and neutral.

“But the difference is, I have you, and I have friends and my mom. He doesn’t have anyone.” She huffed, feeling altogether embarrassed and relieved at her admission.

“When I spend days like this with him, when I’m there to be the distraction, it hurts my heart to know what I’m doing to him. It kills me to think that he’s so starved for companionship that he’ll be willingly used by me just to enjoy it for an hour or two. And I just stomp all over him like I don’t care!”

She was getting worked up. Stefan moved to put his hands on her upper arm in a show of support. “I know, Care, I know. I-, I don’t know…. I just feel like we’re betraying him somehow, like for some reason he deserves better than this, like he deserves more from _us_.”

“Stefan,” she squeaked, afraid of the words about to leave her mouth. “I care about him. Too much to let him die.”

Stefan nodded his agreeance, “I’ll go find Tyler, maybe I can somehow convince him to hold back tonight. If anything I can stall his plans.”

“O- Okay. I’ll find Klaus.” She replied, both of them telling the other to be safe before flashing off to hopefully stop the madness.

  * \- -



She found Klaus excusing himself from some of the older council wives, charmed by him, out by the fountain. Hayley of all people stood a few feet back, waiting for the hybrid. He smiled at Caroline’s approaching form, yet she saw the sorrow behind his eyes.

“What plan must be in the works, for me to be allowed to enjoy so much of your time today, Caroline?”

“Klaus, look, I need to talk to you.”

“Surely it can wait, Hayley here is hoping to speak with me.” He smirked, knowing that somewhere deep down it was bothering her that he’d give the bitchy brunette his attention over her.

He went to move around her and talk to the wolf girl until Caroline’s manicured fingers wrapped around his strong bicep, desperate. “ _Klaus_ ,”

She saw his jaw flex as he stopped, her touch too much for him to deny. He swiveled his head to look down into her shining blue eyes, seeing the audacity in her begging look.

After a heated moment, he gently and silently wrapped an arm around Caroline’s small waist and turned their bodies, heading to a more private area to listen to her. He heard the wolf girl try to call to him, inquiring him to stay and listen to her before taking a few steps in their direction.

“Later, little wolf,” he threw over his shoulder, “I shouldn’t be long”

Caroline would never admit it but she hated that Hayley girl and she hated that she was in any sort of contact with Klaus. And _maybe_ she was irrationally happy when he ignored the brunette at her request for his ear.

He directed her away from wandering eyes and listening ears, directing her to a desolate patch of grass before withdrawing his arm from around her and facing her head on.

“What is it, Caroline, that has you so needy for my attentions.” He threw at her.

“Klaus, I need you to hear me and I need you to understand.”

He was suspicious, not liking where her tone was. “I know something is going on, Caroline. I have no desire to hear your lies or to be subject to more of your false charms.”

“Please, Klaus, I _know._ I know I’ve been awful but look, Tyler and your hybrids have a plan to hurt yo-“ much like the night at the bar, he was already moving, ready for action.

“Klaus, woah, wait!” She reached for him but he whipped around and grabbed her outstretched wrist first, “They have a witch, there’s too many of them! You can’t-“

“How naive of you to doubt my ability,” he spoke harshly. “Now, if I was any less livid at your continued deceit, I would be almost warmed by your attempt to stop me. But I’m not and I’m sure you have ulterior motives, so why don’t you save us both the time and _shut it._ ”

_Woah. Okay, he hadn’t ever spoken to her so crudely. Even that night at the grill._

She retracted at his words, feeling a shot of ice go through her. He noticed.

He was upset: that she had deceived him again, that she thought by coming clean now he’d forget her wrongdoings, that his words had hurt her so.

_And there was still so much she didn’t know, still so much he didn’t know how to tell her._

They stared at each other with so much burning through their eyes. He held her wrist, brushing his thumb over the delicate sparrow there. It heated under his touch, her wrist burning in a comforting sort of way. She broke their gaze to look at where their skin touched, marveling at the hot sensation radiating from her mark, wondering what could cause such a thing.

Without warning, he flashed off and into the woods, his left pectoral hot and throbbing. She’d never be able to find him, to catch him, so all she could do was return to the party and try to find Stefan for help.

  * \- -



What a disaster. 

It was well passed 1:00 am, the festivities long since over. She had found Stefan, roughed up from his conversation with Tyler but otherwise fine.

They had made their way to the Lockwood cellar, telling each other of the events that had passed. Stefan put two and two together and guessed that Hayley had meant to betray Tyler that night. _Bitch_

As they were walking, she decided to ask something that had plagued her mind since it’s occurrence. “Stefan, have you ever met someone who has met their mark mate?”

“No.” He didn’t say anything more for a little while. 

“I think part of me doesn’t really believe in them. So few people out there have them to begin with, I feel like it’s been more of a curse on me than a blessing.” He said, referring to the minimalist and linear mark drawn onto the skin of his ribcage, under his left arm.

“Because Elena doesn’t have one?”

“Yeah, I suppose. It is almost more validation that her and Damon aren’t so wrong together, and I hate that thought.”

“Well, maybe they don’t mean anything. I mean, I didn’t even know what it was until you saw mine and told me about them.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

They were almost there, and the smell of blood was overwhelming to their senses. They didn’t want to face the reality of what their confession to Klaus caused, but it had to be done.

“What makes you ask?” He startled her.

“Oh, uh, nothing. I just, was, uh, making conversation.” He was suspicious but didn’t pry.

“Sometimes I do like to think it’s real.” He admitted, not making eye contact. “That someday I’ll meet someone who takes away all the pain, all the sorrow and insecurity. It gives me hope that I won’t have to experience the hell of another Petrova doppelgänger’s indecision over and over again for my eternity.”

He reached back and touched the mark on his body. “But then again, it’s the hope that seems to elongate the pain the most.”

She didn’t know what to say, it seems even more questions were swimming in her mind than before. She felt awful for Stefan. She remembered how shocked he was when he first found her soul mark, telling her he had only ever met two other souls with the inky designs.

She remembered how he seemed almost sad for her, but how happy he was to have someone to share the fate with. She was happy her and Stefan shared marks, it brought them closer and gave them a shoulder to lean on. 

She tried desperately to ignore the pulsing in her wrist that had beat against her skin ever since Klaus thumbed over her sparrow.

Finally they had made it to the Lockwood cellar, and they both were sad but unsurprised to see the aftermath of complete terror.

Did she cause this? Was there any way she could have stopped it? She didn’t know.

Stefan walked around the bodies, observing the body parts. 

“Tyler’s not here, Caroline.” He looked back at her shocked body. “Maybe he got out, we can find him, you can go to him…” he offered

What made her feel only worse about herself was the fact that her mind could only focus on the hybrid responsible for the massacre, not the one missing. He had spent the day being tricked by her only to find his hybrids had betrayed him. He had killed a species he spent a millennia creating. His sister was daggered, his last living brothers gone from Mystic Falls. 

He was alone, and even though it was his fault, she felt sick at the thought.

“I don’t think any of us are safe. Not now, Caroline.” Stefan warned, fearful of the future they’d have to face. “It’s probably better for you to leave and find Tyler anyways.”

No matter how hard she tried, she could only seem to care about the blonde Hybrid, not the younger one.

“I have to find him.” She finally gasped out.

“Okay, we can try to track him, find a nearby pack maybe.”

“No, not Tyler.” She looked at him intently.

Stefan didn’t know what to say or how to react. He wasn’t blind or unknowing of Caroline’s feeling for Klaus but he was surprised at how intense they truly were.

He nodded at her. “Just, just be safe, Caroline. He’s not stable right now. I’ll try to clean some of this up.” 

With one last look between them, she flashed off in search of Klaus.

\- - -

She found him back in town, following the bloody scent.

_Oh god._

He stood near the fountain, his fine Armani suit dripping blood, swigging champagne straight from the bottle. She knew he sensed her but still she approached delicately. She’d known he’d be bad, but seeing him like this was terrifying.

She gasped when she saw Carol Lockwood’s limp body hanging out of the fountain. 

“No!” She cried, running to the dead woman. “No, no, no, you didn’t do this. Tell me you didn’t do this!” She begged the Hybrid.

“Tyler has left town with the wolf girl. Be sure he gets word of his mother’s condition.” He spit out, his words just barely slurring at the very end.

He was very drunk and very crazed. She wasn’t safe.

She was balling now, what a nightmare this day had turned out to be. She didn’t know what to do from here.

She fell to her knees, sobbing at the disaster in front of her. He had no sympathy for her, though. 

Approaching her, he saw her body flinch. She thought he’d kill her then.

_Fuck, he should_. 

He wishes he could, he wishes he had the strength to end her existence without shredding the last vestiges of his heart and happiness and _light_ along with her. He set the almost empty bottle on the fountain near her head. 

“Here, love, it’s our thing.” He taunted, “That, and your ever constant betrayal.”

She cried more and more as he flashed off, leaving her in the cold snow.


	2. Names and Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no self control so I am posting this ASAP instead of trying to space out my updates evenly. Sorry.

Her legs were numb, the icy snow beneath her shins the culprit. Her soul was numb, too, but it was the cruel Hybrid, the culprit this time. Her aching soul mark was the only thing to keep her frigid body warm.

She sat there for over an hour, next to a dead Carol Lockwood. 

When her heavy sobs dissipated to soft gasps and then to mere sniffles, she finally had the strength to stand and remove Carol’s body from the water. She laid her respectfully on the edge of the fountain, moving her champagne glass and the bottle Klaus left to the ground.

Carol was never her favorite person, but she deserved at least this. She couldn’t take her body anywhere, had to let her be found by the right people so the story fabrication could begin. She wondered how they’d paint this picture. She felt bad that it would likely be a mean one, Carol having been a cold and bossy lush long before Caroline started dating Tyler.

_Tyler._

Klaus had said he left with Hayley of all people. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to think that Tyler would create a ruse just days ago that painted her to be the scorned woman and then actually _scorn_ her like that. He didn’t even know that Hayley had planned to betray him.

When she thought about it more, she realized she just took care of Hayley’s job for her. She had given that sly wolf the perfect opportunity to get those hybrids killed, a goal she still wasn’t sure why the wolf would have, and then a perfect cover story of a traitorous girlfriend.

He had probably jumped at the chance to get out of town, away from the murderous original and his own horrid girlfriend. She had no way of even telling him about his mother. 

A text saying “Hey, I know you’re on the run and you hate me, but your mom is dead by Klaus’ hand. R.I.P.” didn’t exactly have the decorum she hoped to display.

She had sat here long enough, it was almost 4:00 am. She felt drained, and lost. She walked slowly, in the frozen morning air, into the woods towards the Lockwood cellar.

Everything looked back to normal when she arrived, you’d have to be searching to find the drops of blood in the leaves or the footprints in the dirt. She saw a figure sitting hunched on one of the stone walls over the stairwell.

_Stefan_

He looked exhausted. Why wouldn’t he be, though? It’s been a tough few weeks for him, and a disastrous day for them both. She slowly approached him and sat next to him on the stone wall. They were both silent for a few moments.

“Carol Lockwood is dead.” She stated bluntly.

His back straightened at that and he inhaled deeply but still didn’t part his shut lips.

“Klaus killed her,” she continued calmly. “And Tyler ran off with Hayley and will probably never speak to me again so I have no clue how to let him know.”

More silence, just the crickets and the breeze through the rustling leaves.

“And Klaus?” He finally spoke.

“Cold.” She didn’t know if she was referring to how he treated her or how he felt himself. It was probably both.

“I think I’m gonna head out.” He said after taking time to take in her response. “May talk to Elena, give her a heads up about all this.”

It had been a day from hell, and Stefan had poured his heart and feelings out to her in these very woods earlier. She just didn’t feel like she had the strength to _not_ tell him anymore.

“Stefan.” He stopped at her call, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, “Do you happen to know where Elena _is_ …..?”

He looked at her strangely, trying to figure out why she was asking him that. His brows were furrowed as his eyes moved back and forth, searching for an answer.

It took him a beat, but he put together the devastating puzzle. “They-, they’re together. Aren’t they?”

Her tongue played with her molars as he eyes avoided his, she couldn’t fathom the hit this must be to him.

“They’re together!!???” He screamed, moving to take his frustrations out on trees, nearby boulders and rocks, kicking the dead ground below his feet. Her chin quivered as she felt for her dear, dear friend. He deserved to know but god did it hurt to tell him.

He screamed and wailed and destroyed until he just didn’t anymore. He breathed harshly.

“I’m so sorry, Stefa-“ he flashed away before she could finish her sentence.

She closed her eyes as silent tears fell for him, for this wretched day, for Tyler’s mom, for herself. And although she wouldn’t admit it, a few of those tears were for _him_.

She stood after a few moments of stillness. She was adrift to the world. Turning her body, her movements lethargic, she trudged down the brick stairway to the musty cell below. 

There was more blood here. She looked around and saw the casket lying open to the side. Upon closer inspection she recognized the Mikaelson crest she had seen on invitations and various parts of their ballroom all those months ago emblazoned on the box. 

_Rebekah._

Klaus must’ve returned here after leaving her with Carol, must’ve decided his angry sister was a better alternative than being so alone.

Damn him for making her feel this sympathy towards him, after everything he’s done.

She was drowning in emotion, she was scared of the intensity of it. She composed herself as best she could before climbing the uneven steps once more. She just walked and walked, through the woods, no destination on her mind.

She had been so swirled in thoughts that she hadn’t noticed her sparrow’s pulse growing. What had previously felt like blood pumping rapidly had turned into something so strong she could actually see the skin of her mark moving. It was bumping up and down slightly with the rush of blood.

She didn’t know what that was about, why it had never done something like this before. She was terrified; of what it was doing, of what it meant, of who had caused it.

She distractedly moved her feet, the once beautiful heels destroyed by the woods, as she inspected the strange motion.

Before she knew it, a large structure came into her line of sight. How on earth did she manage to stumble upon the Mikaelson mansion, with its sprawling greens and fine architecture, when it was so secluded from most of these woods? It felt strange, like she had been much farther from this mansion than what it took to get her here.

Coming to a halt, she stood just looking around herself. She can’t believe she strayed for so long, so caught up in her brain.

She should have stopped, turned around and ran. She didn’t want to see the bastard hybrid. They had both done awful things tonight and she didn’t want to face him. But her feet wouldn’t listen.

She kept her pace, slowly making her way through the perfect grass beyond the scraggly forest. About thirty yards from the extravagant patio of the first floor above her, she stopped and just looked at the opulent edifice.

She said nothing, did nothing, just breathed and moved her crystalline eyes over the house in contemplation. She took in the grand marble pillars, the pristine brickwork, the delicate and detailed moldings. Big beautiful vines grew up the sides, framing the balconies and windows.

Crickets chirped in the darkness as her eyes wandered and wandered and wandered until they suddenly met golden orbs up high. She gasped then: startled by the half-man, half-beast stood in a set of open French doors.

_Klaus_

He still had a bit of blood on his face, just flecks of it left. 

He had only his trousers and button up still on. She had taken interest, all those hours ago, to the fact that the cream shirt had matched her own dress perfectly as they enjoyed champagne and talked about his art. The ruined shirt was now hanging open in the front, the wind blowing it delicately about and showcasing more of his muscled torso.

Thats when she saw it, his mark. It was massive, with a group of the same sparrow that adorned her wrist blooming from a feather on his shoulder out across his left pectoral.

Her eyes were fixed on it. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t understand what she was seeing. It was throbbing, the skin bumping from the blood rushing fiercely beneath it, just like her’s was doing on her wrist.

Her eyes met his gold ones again, his veins spreading out across his smooth cheeks making him look so intimidating. A true nightmare.

They looked into each other’s eyes for an eternity. Her mark grew hot, hotter than before. It was painful, the heat, but somehow she wanted more. When she got just that, and the heat grew unbearable, she pulled her eyes from his to look at her mark.She furrowed her brows at what she saw, or rather, what she didn’t see.

Other than the pulsing, it looked completely normal. She was expecting it the be glowing or on fire or something with how much energy radiated from it, how much heat it produced. She brought her left hand up to touch the ink and hissed as her fingers were burned by the intense heat. 

_What the hell?_

Her wrist was in severe pain now, and she didn’t know what to do to stop it. She had no clue, no inkling of an answer, as to what this could be. Panic consumed her, her brows scrunched.

She looked back up to the intimidating beast, seeing his body seem to strain slightly, his eyes still amber pools. His lips were curled in anger, rage even. He was feeling something, too.

As her wince grew and his eyebrow shook with sweat, he finally moved. He brought his right hand up and touched his mark. Relief was immediate for them, though not absolute.

They were both breathing heavy, him through his nose, her through parted lips. Each of the pair still rubbing their fingertips against their marks in a soothing manner, tracing the deep blue patterns. After a few moments like this, he moved again, never breaking their eye contact.

He removed the fingers from the feather and sparrows, but slid his right wrist up onto the birds. They both jolted, feeling some sort of impact on their bodies.

For the first time since their eyes had met, the gold of his irises started to dissolve, the veins becoming less prominent and the Pthalo Blue peeking through. She marveled at him, seeing him slowly move his wrist over the winged art. He was waiting, but she didn’t know what for.

It hit her then, as the gold and blue fought for dominance and the veins flicked back and forth on his face, so she brought her sparrow up to her chest and used her left hand to move her cardigan out of the way. She placed the skin of her mark to the skin of her collarbone and her body jolted again. And then, utter peace.

For the first time since she had reluctantly left his side at the holiday party to get back to hybrid business, she felt calm. Like the day wasn’t the shit show it had actually been, like everything in her world was right. 

A weight had lifted. One that had been building since she didn’t even know when, maybe it was when she became a vampire, maybe it was when she was being compelled as a human, or maybe it had been building her whole life. She didn’t know, but all she did know was that she felt _free_.

The pain and throbbing of the mark was gone now. Her eyes flashed to his and there he stood, all man and no wolf. His lips spread, breathing freely, brow relaxed, eyes clear as the ocean.

What had previously been off-standish and challenging eye-contact turned into wide-eyed shock and awe. They both continued to rub their wrists to their left collarbones. His blank wrist meeting inked pectoral muscle, her marked wrist against clear porcelain flesh. 

They were enjoying it, now. It was bringing them comfort, control, contentment. It could have been ten minutes or ten years they stood there, touching their respective marks by way of some unfathomable bond. 

The sun hadn’t shown over the horizon, but it’s rays had brightened the sky from inky black to a purple twilight. She swallowed thickly, overwhelmed and overstimulated by the past 18 hours.

He moved slowly, then, never looking away from her eyes. He lifted a foot, and with his wrist still at his mark, he moved to take a step out of his room onto his balcony into the cool air.

As he placed the pad of his foot on the cold stone, she flashed off into the early morning mist.


	3. Home and Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally Back! Sorry I took so long to update but I'm back and better than ever!
> 
> Takes place during 4x10 "After School Special"

The sun burned so brightly, and suddenly her eyelids didn’t seem thick enough to keep the rays out. Burning, burning, burning, just like her wrist….

Her body jolted from the sheets, heart and head pounding. It was already 10 am but she was still rightfully exhausted. She needed a shower and some blood desperately. And she needed to see Stefan, he had flashed off so suddenly, and in such a fit of rage last night. Until she saw him, she could only hope that he was okay.

What was meant to be a quick rinse off turned into a 40-minute shower without warning.

She stood under the blistering stream of water and stared blankly at the wet, white tiles. Her brain had yet to recover from everything that had happened last night. She felt so exhausted, depleted even. She was numb, in a way; happy to not feel everything but also desperate to feel _something_.

The shower, as hot as it could go, couldn’t compare to the burn she had felt last night: the white-hot pulse of her mark as she stood in the misty morning before the devil himself.

She wouldn’t let her mind go there, not now. She ended her shower abruptly, wrinkled fingers turning the knob, and toweled off her now pink skin. She dressed and pinned her hair back to hopefully mask the messy state of it, drank a whole blood bag…no, one isn’t enough, and so she poured part of a second bag into a travel mug and left the silent house.

She realized, as she drove in silence, that she had yet to hear from her mom. Had she found Carol’s lifeless body yet, were stories already being fabricated? If she had the strength to, she would have called her mother then: but she didn’t, not today.

She put her car into park, staring at the boarding house in front of her. It was like staring up at Mt. Everest, knowing it was your job to climb it whether you’d like to or not. But it was Stefan in there who needed her.

She trudged up the front steps and banged on the front door, the deep, hollow sound carrying through the house.

Silence met her knock.

She knocked again, and again received no response.

“Stefan, I know you’re hurt. But please just let me know if you’re okay!” She shouted through the door. “Stefan!?” She shouted again at the lack of response.

Stepping around the side of the house she saw one of the three garage doors left open, and the blue Camaro usually housed in it gone.

She couldn’t care less where Damon Salvatore was, or at least on any normal day she would’ve thought she couldn’t care less but after betraying Stefan so brutally she _really_ couldn’t care less anymore.

She entered the boarding house through the back entrance, finding no one there. She made her way up the stairs to Stefan’s room and quickly realized his bed hadn’t been slept in. She was worried, he hadn’t gone ripper last night, had he?

She texted him to no reply multiple times now but texted once more for good measure. She wrote a quick note with his antique stationary – _I’m here for you always, gone out searching for you, please call me if you see this –_ and headed out the back door to begin her search.

She started in the woods, her optimism clinging to the idea that Stefan stuck to being just a bunny ripper and not a people ripper. Sadly, without fervor, she began her slow search.

She hated being in the woods again, just the most obvious of reminders of everything that had transpired. She didn’t want to face any of it, least of all _him._

But inevitably he did seep in from the corners of her mind, and with him came the thoughts of what it all meant. The marks, the reactions, his anger, her feelings. She didn’t even know that he had a mark, couldn’t believe that some cosmic power actually thought he had a soul, let alone a mate. He was always alone and that’s how he wanted it, well that’s how he made it seem anyways. He couldn’t be….

NO!

She wouldn’t even entertain the thoughts of _that._ There’s no way any of that meant what she was scared it meant. For all she knew, intense feelings of hate made people's marks react like they had last night.

The not-knowing was so frustrating. She wished Stefan had more answers, or the whole vampirism thing came with a handbook with subsections for anomalies like her.

She had gotten lost in her thoughts again, and the fallen leaves and dried sticks and ancient trees began to feel all too familiar. An hour and a half, almost two had passed and she was headed in the same direction that had sparked the fire in her mark hours previous.

Her mark was calm, though. As if she were hypnotized, she couldn’t keep her sneakers from following the same footsteps her muddied heels had. She knew she should turn around, but she wasn’t in her own body it seemed. She kept on through the trees that became brush, the brush that became bushes, and the bushes that became grass.

And the grass didn’t stop her. She continued over the meadow-like greenery, closer and closer to the spot she stood the night before, until she passed it and kept going. Her eyes stayed on the balcony windows, where she had looked the original hybrid in the very soul and soothed and enraged him in equal measure.

She was the enraged one, now.

How dare he punish her for being honest, for turning away from her own allies to save him. And how dare he _still_ go and kill the hybrids and poor, drunk, Mrs. Lockwood. And, after every atrocity he has committed, after every way he has ruined her life and altered her world: how dare he stand there and touch his wrist to his chest with the tenderness of a dove and make her feel true peace for maybe the first time in her whole life.

She kicked the lush grass, dug her heels into the dirt with her rage. She was leaving quite the mark in the sod, something she could only pray would irritate him later, although she knew it would really be of no consequence to him.

If anyone saw her little conniption, they would be more likely to have a good laugh than to run away scared. He wasn’t here, and she was realizing that it was probably for the best. He certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing how affected she was by him. Especially not now. She was done playing these games. Her strange dance, her sordid soiree with Klaus Mikaelson: it was done.

She left the way she came, slowly and without sound. Only once she passed the brush and was well into the forest did she flash back to her car at the boarding house to head home.

***

She walked into the house to see her Mother holstering her gun, ready to head back out into the big dangerous world of their tiny little town. The poor woman had hardly slept, the exhaustion plain to see.

“Oh God, Caroline!” She rushed to hug her daughter, “I was at the school today, when I didn’t see you at the assembly I panicked!”

“I’m safe mom, really. I just had some stuff to handle. Everything is okay.” She tried to assure the Sheriff who pulled away at her calm-if not tired- tone.

“Caroline, sweetie, I wish that were true.” She said delicately as she pulled out one of the stools under the kitchen island and invited Caroline to do the same. “Sweetie, uhm, I don’t really know how to tell you this…” she began wobbly as tears pooled in her eyes.

She grabbed the hands that Caroline had folded in her lap and confessed the truth to her daughter. “Carol Lockwood is dead. Her body was found by the fountain in town square and although it’s been made official that she was drunk and accidentally drowned, the real autopsy shows force used to drown her.”

Caroline stayed still, unsure what to even say to her mother, unsure if it even mattered.

Liz didn’t know what to do with her daughter’s odd reaction, but figured it was best to lay everything on the line now rather than adding on later. “And Caroline, I’m so sorry to tell you this but Tyler has skipped town. At first I had thought you’d gone with him but then you showed up tonight and..” her voiced died out as she realized she was simply rambling to fill the silence.

“You don’t think he…. I mean him leaving has nothing to do with this, right?” Liz asked uncomfortably.

“No, mom. Tyler didn’t kill his own mother. Only true monsters are capable of doing something so merciless.” She said plainly, thinking of the selfish man that she couldn’t seem to truly hate.

“But he did leave, he betrayed Klaus. Mystic Falls is no longer his home.”

Liz stayed silent, sensing something more was coming.

“He brought his wolf ‘friend’ Hayley with him. And he hates me, so I have no way of even telling him about Carol.”

Caroline was starting to break, everything unraveling and forcing tears from her eyes.

“Oh, Honey, c’mere.” Liz held her daughter in a comforting hug as the girl cried out all the stress and pain that had befallen her.

“Tyler needs to go live his life, maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know, at least for now.” Liz offered, not sure if bashing the Hybrid for leaving town with a girl that wasn’t Caroline was what her daughter needed or wanted to hear right now.

Maybe her mother was right. Tyler would forever hate her now anyways, and in the back of her mind she always knew that without a mark, he might not be her forever. What if one day he found some girl without a mark that he felt like he could relate to more, like what Elena did to Stefan with Damon. But isn't that what he's _already_ done? He's been getting closer and closer to Hayley for weeks, and now they've run off to be together like star-crossed lovers or something. She felt such a fool.

Could Hybrids even get marks?

She needed answers, she needed assurance, she needed out of here.

Much too soon, her mother pulled away.

“I have to get back to the station. The press has more questions and I need to be there.” Liz said sadly but sternly.

Caroline nodded at her mother’s words, “Mom, you know I love you right? You know I’m safe?”

Liz gave a sad smile, not so sure about the second part anymore, but nodded anyways as she squeezed her daughter’s shoulders with affection.

“If I’m ever gone for a time or if I don’t answer the phone, it’s nothing for you to worry about. I don’t want you to ever worry about me.” She was trying to assure her mom, give her peace of mind without giving her answers.

Liz simply kissed her forehead, gave her one last hug, and headed to the door.

Sitting in the silence of the old house, Caroline startled when a knock came at the door.

Her mind flooded with a million possibilities of who could be standing on the other side, one of which sounding worse than any other.

She was spared when she heard Stefan, “Caroline, it’s me.”

Her relief was short lived when she rounded the corner of the kitchen to see the solemn face to match the depressed voice.

She opened the door and pulled Stefan into a deep hug, one she needed and could only assume he needed as well.

He hugged her with as much earnestness as she hugged him, both holding back tears of hurt and uncertainty.

Biting them back, Stefan stood straight. “Can I come in, just for a minute?”

“Gosh, of course, here sit down.” She ushered him to the sofa. “What happened? Did you hurt someone?” She asked, fearful of a lapse in sobriety.

“No, I think I would have preferred that though.” He said bitterly, “No, the only person who got hurt today was me.” Finishing somberly

“What happened?” She asked quietly, assessing him for physical damage that she knew she wouldn’t find, horrified to hear the truth.

“Rebekah happened. She did me a favor really.”

Caroline was still confused, but briefly remembered the empty coffin she stumbled across in the cellar.

“Elena slept with Damon.” Stefan said monotonously, staring straight ahead.

Caroline’s brow furrowed, confused why he was telling her something she already knew, but stayed quiet all the same.

“And Elena slept with Damon because Elena is in love with Damon.” Stefan said almost mockingly, desperately trying to hide the cold hurt from his voice.

Caroline exhaled harshly, in disbelief and in sorrow for her dearest of friend.

She knew not to ask any more questions, to not keep igniting the fiery pain that was consuming him. And so Caroline grabbed Stefan’s larger hand and they sat side-by-side in silence for nearly an hour, just trying to desperately draw comfort from each other.

“I have to leave.” Stefan finally split the air, “I can’t be here right now, can’t be around Elena or Damon. I was on my way out of town, only came to say goodbye, at least for now.”

Caroline digested his words. Stefan was going to leave. Her vampiric best friend, her brother from another lifetime.

“Oh-kay. Uhm, where are you headed?”

“Isn’t that the saddest part. I don’t even know. I just know that I’d rather exile myself to Antarctica to avoid ever seeing them together, ever running into them.”

She nodded her understanding as silence engulfed them once more.

As suddenly as he had broken the silence last time, Stefan broke the silence again as he stood abruptly from the plush couch.

“Well, I’d better leave before it gets much later.” He glanced at the clock, already 9:45 pm.

“Stefan,” Caroline squeaked out as he was headed towards the door.

His body turned to face his best friend, the only person that felt like family to him anymore.

“Do you remember when we talked about soul marks the other night? About the other people you’ve met that have them.”

He nodded, not understanding why she was bringing this up now. He didn’t want some sad pep-talk about how he’ll meet his true love or something, he didn’t want to hear it.

“I need some answers, answers they might have. I’m sure Antarctica is great this time of year and all, but it would make my life a lot easier if I had your help to find them.”

Stefan didn’t know if this was real, if Caroline actually needed help finding these people or if she even cared this much about her mark. So, what if she was just presenting him with this opportunity to not be alone without hurting his pride. He couldn’t be happier to take her up on it.

“Usually, I’d give you some lecture about staying in school and living out what’s left of your human life, ya know.” He said teasingly, “But I can’t seem to articulate those words right now.”

She smiled excitedly and flashed up the stairs to get her stuff. He smiled back at her as she made her way, bag in hand, out the door with him.

As they loaded into his bright red Porsche, he realized it was less than a full 24 hours out from the two harshest blows he had ever taken in his life. And yet, he had already smiled.


	4. Desperate and Seeking

The coffee was hot, the pancakes were fluffy, and the bacon was sizzling. Who cares if ‘ _The Breakfast King_ ’ had the most dated wood paneling or the ugliest orange vinyl seats she’d ever seen? The food was good and she was hungry.

“So we’re about eight hours outside of Mystic Falls,” Stefan pulled her from her observations of their humble breakfast spot.

The pair had driven all through the night without direction, just trying to get _out_. Breakfast was their first stop since leaving, the thought of warm food in the frosty morning too much to pass up. (That, and _other_ libations hopefully found in the surrounding forests). Now that they had room to breathe, they were ready to regroup.

Stefan sat in the squeaky booth staring at the old paper map he had borrowed from the diner. “The last time I met someone with a mark was 1933, I think. I was in Detroit at the time.”

“Yeesh, Detroit. I’m thinking the odds that someone would’ve willingly stayed there are slim.” Caroline remarked as she shoveled another bite of syrup-coated pancakes into her mouth.

“Yeah, I haven’t been back since the thirties for a reason.” Stefan qualified, “But it really was something back in the day.” he reminisced as he sipped from the thick ceramic mug full of coffee.

Huffing loudly, Caroline dropped her fork to her plate, “Maybe this was a dumb idea, I mean how the hell are we supposed to find any of these people? Its been almost a century since you’ve seen somebody else with a mark that isn’t me, we could be searching for years! This is hopeless.”

“Now where’s my optimistic best friend who’s never without a plan? I left town with Caroline Forbes, right?” He asked, sarcastically.

“I know, but seriously, this guy could be anywhere! Where do we even begin?!”

“Detroit, I guess. We can go to some of the older digs there, see if we can’t find anything about him.”

“Right, and what is _his_ name?”

At her question, Stefan simply grabbed his cup of coffee and took a gratuitous gulp, now taking his turn in eyeing-up the old diner. His silence was suspicious, to say the least.

“Oh my god. You don’t _remember_?!” She concluded.

“Well, not exactly…He never actually told me.” He replied in a voice much quieter than her own.

“You didn’t even know this guy?! I thought that you were buddies or something, at least for a little while!” She reined her tone into a sharp whisper this time.

“Not exactly, we met one night at the bar in the Pontchartrain. Lexi and I were, uh, getting me back on track,” he said pointedly, referring to his twenty year ripper-rehab after Chicago.

“And Detroit was a good distraction from blood, all the hustle and bustle of an emerging and flourishing city, plus the automobile industry was booming. I actually learned a lot about cars, it kind of inspired my love for them.” 

“Wow, a boy enamored with cars, how very rare.” Caroline jibed, ripping up a piece of bacon in her fingers, still annoyed at Stefan’s lack of knowledge about the guy.

With an amicable eye roll, Stefan got to the point, “Yeah, well anyways, we chatted for a bit, nothing of significance. He offered me a cigar before retiring for the night, said I looked like I needed it. As he handed it to me I noticed the design spiraling up his index finger, almost like henna or something. I mulled over what it could be until I mentioned it to Lexi. She was the one who deduced that it was a mate mark.”

“Well why don’t we bust out the Ouija board? Unlike you, Lexi might actually have a clue on how to help us find this guy.” She snapped.

Stefan’s gaze went unfocused, his eyes falling to the table to avoid Caroline’s severe gaze.

“I’m sorry, Stefan. I’m tired and frazzled. That was harsh.” Her voice had taken a softer lilt, embarrassed and upset at her freak-out.

“It’s alright, you’re probably not wrong anyways.” He responded softly, sadly, fond memories of his dear friend floating in his mind.

After a beat passed, Caroline spoke, “I think I would’ve liked her, if I ever had the chance to meet her. She seems pretty stellar, based on what you’ve told me.”

Eyes still glossed over, Stefan agreed, “She was, and you would’ve loved her. She held the same respect for humans as you do, the same kind of unfathomable control of her bloodlust, same fierce protective nature.”

Caroline gave a bittersweet half-smile, trying to imagine what the enigmatic woman could’ve been like.

“Of course, she wasn’t half as neurotic as you.” He broke the serious tension that had grown.

She rolled her eyes dramatically but couldn’t help but chuckle with her next words, “Ha. Ha. Caroline is a tight-ass, very funny.” She chucked a bit of the bacon at him.

“Seriously, though, you two would’ve loved each other. Probably would’ve left my brooding ass in the dust for your own blonde-adventure.” He teased fondly.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so. Because if you say that me and her are so similar then she must care about you at least as much as I do.” She said assuredly.

Stefan’s smile grew wider as his cheeks flushed, Caroline was similar to Lexi but definitely her own brand. If losing his old best friend was fate, then so was meeting the bubbly blonde in front of him.

“You’re stuck with me Salvatore, deal with it. Now let’s figure out where the hell this marked guy is: if Hotel Pontchartrain is all we have to go on, then Detroit here we come.”

***

Irksome, that is what this little town and all it’s trivial inhabitants had become.

His rage for Tyler Lockwood had been _blinding_ after the night in the woods. The coward that he is, the boy had skipped town leaving the hybrids to pay for his sins _._ Klaus was hungry, and the only thing that would satiate his appetite would be Tyler Lockwood’s head on a silver platter.

His rage simmered inside of him hotter than ever as he sliced his sword through Kimberley’s neck in that old cellar. He had lost that which he had spent 1000 years obtaining and all he had left to live for was the miraculous death that would be Tyler Lockwood’s. If Tyler wasn’t around to receive it, his mother’s own death would be a temporary salve.

With Carol Lockwood’s head in the bottom of an icy fountain, he was ready to leave town that night to find the boy, much like he had five-hundred years ago with a cavalry ready to do anything to bring the culprit to Klaus Mikaelson’s feet. But something stopped him: the same thing that pulled his attentions from the wolf girl, the same thing he wasn’t strong enough to kill right along with the mayor.

Caroline Alexandra-Marie Forbes.

Caroline who stood in the lavender twilight in her sparkling dress and stared into his very being, who touched her mark to his and took away every ounce of rage, who forced him to feel peace when he wanted war.

Caroline who has been the perfect distraction for all of her friends’ schemes, who has spat nasty words at him and still kept her tongue, who thinks that a confession makes up for her many transgressions. 

Caroline who had a suspiciously familiar sparrow on her dainty little wrist.

What the hell would he do about Caroline Alexandra-Marie Forbes? 

He let her distract him. He had let her become much too confident in her ability to take advantage of him and simply walk away, in her disrespect, in her friends’ disrespect.

Suddenly, the Mystery Gang of Mystic Falls no longer regarded him with terror. This group of childish, unimpressive, ineffectual young supernaturals were underestimating him. 

Never in his life has he been so lenient or merciful. That will change. They need to be reminded how horrifying, how unequivocally petrifying Klaus Mikaelson is. He was not an ally to them; he was the enemy, the devil.

And so, like the conniving bastard he is, he started mulling over plans for the coming weeks.

Since that night he had been speeding up the process of developing the Gilbert boy’s tattoo. Damon Salvatore proved his worthlessness yet again in doing so and so he simply stepped in to do what the eldest Salvatore didn’t have the guts to do. With a bar full of freshly turned and compelled vampires ready to murder Matt Donovan by nightfall, he should have a fully-tatted hunter by morning.

He would find the cure for Elena, but not to simply wager a deal allowing her to live out her life and donate blood. No, she would be his and his alone. He would assure she lived a very long and healthy life, and that she bear children to continue the bloodline. But she would never see a Salvatore again, would never remember her life outside of being his blood source. 

He’d then repay kindly every ill-fated soul in the town that had ever conspired against him and his family once Elena was human again. Perhaps he’d make Damon and Stefan murder one another in cold blood. Maybe he’d turn the town council into what they hate the most and have them kill their own inhabitants and tourists in their newfound bloodlust. He’d even end Bonnie Bennett’s life, as useful and rare a witch as she may be; her crimes against him too much to be forgotten. Carol Lockwood’s death will be considered merciful once Klaus Mikaelson has reaped his justice.

And for the dim witted and disappointing Tyler Lockwood: he will spend years simply running, running, running from a maker that hasn’t even _begun_ the chase yet. His paranoia alone will strip him of any joy he may find along the way. And if by then the pathetic wolf —the wolf that HE deigned to gift with immortality and freedom from the moon —hasn’t ended his own life, well then Klaus could have even more fun introducing Tyler Lockwood to every fantastical creation the Spanish Inquisition bred. Without doubt, the treasonous mutt would pay for each and every Hybrid life he had a hand in un-siring. 

That just leaves Caroline. 

He should thank her, really. If she hadn’t stood below his balcony and soothed his seething temper then Tyler Lockwood’s death would’ve been far too swift. This way the boy will know the hell that lies in store for him, will feel the leg-shaking horrors coming his way.

She will try to stop him, of course, try to use their connection against him. But he won’t let her. Caroline Forbes holds no effect on him, the mark holds no power over him, and he wouldn’t be stopped by either.

He had lived a thousand years on his own, with barely his siblings by his side, and look at his family now— in shambles. This is who he is, he refuses to change. The hybrids were his future. He didn’t want companionship anymore.

He was drawn away from his dark calculations as none other than the doppelgänger was lead into the sitting room by one of his lovely little servants, Tara he believes her name is…

She must be here to ask him to let go of the compulsion he has over the vampires out to kill Matt. How pathetic she was, he’d remind her of just how cruel he could be.

“Elena Gilbert, what brings me the pleasure?” He asked sarcastically, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Klaus, I need your help. Kol’s got Damon!” She spoke in a panic.

His little brother really was a pain in his side.

With all the decorum of a man unfazed and with one arm still behind his back, he simply gestured to the tufted leather sofas. Annoyed, she sat on the luxurious seat —close to the edge, her back rigid— while he settled comfortably and confidently into the chair opposite her.

With all the superiority he held over her, he finally spoke, “A bit ironic, you coming to me for help. Weren’t your friends just trying to bury me in a cement tomb?”

Sighing in exasperation, “This is your fault,” she bit, “You started this when you forced Jeremy to kill those vampires.”

“And now my little brat of a brother has gone and made things worse. Well, he never did like Damon.” He replied pragmatically. Tapping his fingers almost whimsically on the armrest he continued. “I suppose I should do something, shouldn’t I?”

“Call him off, Klaus”

With her stiff words his false geniality fell from his face and was replaced with a cold hatred. “You are in no position to make demands, love. Whilst I’d like to cure you, to make more hybrids, I do have other reasons for finding the cure, not the least of which is destroying it so you lot can’t use it against me.”

“Whatever our differences,” she said, using a less aggressive tone towards the dangerous original, “We want the same thing. Please. Klaus, I’m begging you.”

Her admitted helplessness was a joy, really. He chuckled softly at her pitiful plea and then sent her the smirk that a wolf sends it’s prey when they both know there’s nowhere left to run.

The call was over in a matter of seconds, Kol promising to not lay a finger on Damon Salvatore by the end of it. 

“Satisfied?” He asked mockingly, knowing the doppelgänger had listened in on every word transferred between the two with her new heightened senses.

“Thank you.” Was all she had to say in reply.

“Something I can’t seem to figure out is why Stefan sent you into the lion’s den rather than asking me himself. It’s not in his nature to put you in harm’s way if he can help it. Surely he’s not trying to save Damon, he knows he won’t be able to do anything other than get killed by Kol.” He continued to taunt.

Adjusting again in her seat, Elena was uncomfortable with the Hybrid’s line of questioning. She knew where this would lead.

“Sore subject? Maybe Stefan knew his future with you would be secure if Kol rid the world of his elder brother, hmm?”

“No,” She cut in, she wouldn’t tolerate him bashing the brothers like that, “He- ehem-, he left. Gone for good. He doesn’t even know we’re training Jeremy. Happy?”

For the first time since he can remember Klaus was actually interested in what the Doppelgänger had to say. 

“You don’t say,” his nearly ever-present smirk deepening his dimples. “Did he finally tire of the love triangle? Realize you’re not quite the prize he thought?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he went to go find Tyler and find a way to kill you once and for all.” She spat the words, hating that she had no real way of upsetting the original the way his words upset her. 

He furrowed his brow and tutted condescendingly in a fake show of distress. “How absolutely boot-shaking, but I think you and I both know that’s not true.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” She had intended to throw her words at him to finally get a reaction out of the original, but she asked the next question as if she were asking it to herself. “Caroline left with him, where else would they go?”

Once again, his face dropped from taunting enjoyment to a livid sneer. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“I don’t even know why you care, but it’s true. They left the other night. And I don’t think they’re coming back.” She finished sadly, feeling betrayed that her best friend and her….Stefan… would leave town together without telling anyone why.

“I don’t care.” he assured her, maybe trying to assure himself too. “Tara,” he summoned, not taking his sharp eyes from the brunette in front of him, “Escort her out, would you?”

As the pretty little twit directed the doppelgänger out, he contemplated.

Caroline Forbes wasn’t a runner. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t abandon her stead in such uncertain and tumultuous times.

She wouldn’t really run off to reunite with his damned little hybrid, would she? Surely not after he brought Hayley along for company…

His own thoughts would drive him mad, forget his irritation at caring where the insolent blonde was to begin with.

He’d check her home, just to see if the doppelgänger words were true, and then he could put this matter to bed.

***

He was at her house in under a half hour.

Her car was here, yes, and that should have need enough to quell his interest. But somehow he could feel an absence. There was movement in the house, but somehow he knew.

Slamming the door of his sleek black sedan shut behind him, he trekked right through the slightly yellowing lawn up to the door of the Forbes home.

With his previous invite he forewent knocking, his heavy steps echoing on the old wood floors with each step. Reaching the staircase, he started his ascent.

He smelled her, but not like he should be able to, not like h-

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” A near shaking Liz Forbes stood in the middle of the hallway, gun aimed at the ready to shoot.

He paused but didn’t turn his body around to face the woman. “Now Sheriff Forbes, is that anyway to greet a guest in your home?”

“You’re no guest. What the hell are you doing in my house?”

Turning around, he dauntingly retraced his steps down the stairs, his big feet falling heavy.

“Of course I am, you invited me in yourself. Or do you not remember?”

“I invited you in so you’d save my daughter’s life, the same daughter who you’ve almost killed twice now. Not so you could barge in for tea time.”

“But I did save her life.” He pointed out haughtily, cocky even.

“I’m not here to play your games, Mikaelson. What do you want.?” She asked in an authoritarian manner, gun still aimed uselessly at the original.

He chortled slightly at her show of strength, “Do you happen to know where your daughter is, Miss Forbes?”

“What do you want with Caroline?!”, her protective nature ever at the helm. 

“Nothing.” He answered darkly. “But, it has been brought to my attention that her and a certain Salvatore have fled town. Making sure there are no plans conspiring behind my back, that sort of thing.”

The sheriff didn’t retract her gun but her shoulders slumped slightly, her fierce face softening.

“Now, if you have any information on their whereabouts, you’d do good to answer. If I do find out they are plotting against me I may even spare Caroline’s life. It all depends on how difficult you choose to be.”

“I don’t know.” She answered, defeated. “I was worried I’d lose her after we spoke the other night, guess I was right. But with a demon like you in town killing left and right she’s safer away from here, with Stefan.”

“C’mon Liz, surely you have an idea. Perhaps she ran after Lockwood, let him know of his mummy’s unfortunate accident?” He poked, ignoring how irate the Stefan part was making him. 

“We both know Carol’s death was no accident. She was my friend, and you killed her. I’d rather die than tell you anything about my daughter.”

He stalked closer to the middle-aged woman, his steps the only sound in the house. As he reached her position he put his index finger to the top of the gun and lowered it in the sheriff’s hands.

“I killed Carol Lockwood to spite Tyler. What makes you think I _wouldn’t_ kill you to do the same to Caroline?” He stared down at her.

She was scared, she wouldn’t lie. But she wouldn’t back down in the face of this monster. “I’m sure you would. But if it means Caroline is safe from you, bring it on.”

Terrifyingly, he went from intense predator to pleasantries in an instant. With a smile on his face, he spoke. “Do let me know if you hear anything, you know how I like to be in the loop.”

He bypassed the woman and headed towards the door.

“Why Caroline?” Liz asked before he could get his hand around the door knob.

He stopped, turning just his head so as to catch her in his peripheral.

“Why my daughter. Why do you need her. She’s just a normal girl-, er, vampire. Why do you terrorize her, why is she your chosen toy? She’s useless to you. Why ruin her life if she offers nothing of value to you?” 

She was practically begging for an answer, hoping somehow he’d realize that her daughter was just a silly distraction and leave her alone from now on.

Instead of answering, he calmly grabbed the old brass doorknob and walked out.


End file.
